


Goatfrey

by BlueEyedArcher



Category: Vampyr (Video Game)
Genre: Bad Puns, Crack Treated Seriously, Fluff and Humor, Geoffrey does not approve, Goats, Jonathan gets a pet goat, M/M, One Shot Collection, Priwen Antics
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-06
Updated: 2019-12-19
Packaged: 2021-03-07 03:28:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 17,883
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21698779
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlueEyedArcher/pseuds/BlueEyedArcher
Summary: Jonathan gets a pet goat and Geoffrey does not approve. The Guards of Priwen think its the greatest thing to ever happen to their esteemed leader and terrible puns ensue.(This is a series of one-shots involving Goatfrey McGoatum, Jonathan Reid's pet goat.)
Relationships: Geoffrey McCullum/Jonathan Reid
Comments: 33
Kudos: 122





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Svart_Jade](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Svart_Jade/gifts).

> To my fiance' who enabled this terrible idea and all the bad puns that followed. I love you.

“O’Connor, how much whiskey was in the coffee this morning?” Geoffrey asked the second in command standing by his side. Both men were dumbstruck, standing in the shadows of the St. Mary’s Church in Whitechapel. The night was still early and their patrol had only just begun for the evening. Johnson and Henricks were busy running the newest batch of recruits through a low risk hunt for a couple of pesky Skals down by the docks. This left McCullum and O’Connor to their own devices as they wandered the streets. 

It wasn’t unusual for the esteemed head of Priwen to cross paths with the newest addition to Pembroke Hospital. Dr. Jonathan Emmet Reid was a man of many mysteries and even more conundrums as he went about his daily routine, walking the expanse of Whitechapel handing out free medical care to those in desperate need when just a few streets over, the Swansborough siblings were selling fake curatives to the masses for quick coin. 

The doctor had gone against every odd and expectation Geoffrey had come to expect, both in societal status and in vampiric behavior. The man refused to fit the tiny box that the hunter had tried on so many occasions, to put him in for easy classification and even easier hatred. Tonight however, the aforementioned doctor continued to defy all expectation and reason.

“Not enough I’d say.” O’Connor answered, reaching into his coat pocket and withdrawing a silver flask filled with whiskey, taking a healthy swig of it.

Geoffrey scowled at the man when the action caught his attention. “Is that  _ my  _ flask?”

“Correction, it _was _yours sir.” O’Connor answered as he passed it over to his superior. Geoffrey took it, considered the response with a scowl before tipping it back, letting the alcohol burn down his throat. “I’m too sober for this shite.” His second grumbled as both Priwen guards eyeballed the paradox walking in front of them.

Dr. Reid appeared to be doing his regular rounds, dressed as prim and proper as any West End snob Geoffrey had come to know and hate. A scarf carefully draped over his shoulders to give the illusion of warding off the night’s chill. His hands were covered in a pair of dark leather gloves and his shoes were clean and shiny, causing Geoffrey to scoff at the polished edge. What bothered him tonight wasn’t the posh man but that which accompanied him. From his wrist was a long expensive leather leash that met the soft white fur of a small baby goat. A similar black harness was wrapped around its torso over top of a colorful and expensive looking padded sweater often used for the upper class mongrels the influential and esteemed kept yapping away in their homes. The tiny little creature bleated softly, small hooves clomping against the cobblestones as it jumped and bounced excitedly, chasing after the doctor who walked the beast as if it were a Pomeranian and not something that should be roaming a farm yard.

“What in God’s name-” O’Connor started, shaking his head as he took the flask back and tipped another swig before capping it and returning it to his coat pocket. 

“Nah, there is no God here. Just leeches.” Geoffrey responded, gesturing for his second in command to hang back while he confronts the problematic doctor. He moved with swift strides down the sloping cobblestones towards the front steps of the church where Reid had stopped momentarily to disentangle the leash from his new acquisition. The little goat had hopped around his legs and got snagged up in its excitement. The tiny bleats of adoration as the doctor bent down to offer it a few strokes over the long soft ears, spreading fingers through the warm white fur on its forehead and along its jawline.

“Good evening McCullum.” Reid called when the hunter was within earshot. The doctor’s back was turned towards him but McCullum didn’t doubt the leech knew he’d been watching him for the last fifteen minutes with increasing confusion.

“I didn’t know leeches started taking their meals to go.” Geoffrey scowled, watching as Reid pulled himself to his full height. Pale blue eyes gazed back at him with tolerant amusement, though he didn’t withhold the eyeroll that followed. Geoffrey crossed his arms and chanced a look at the baby goat.

“To what do I owe this pleasurable encounter with you today?” Jonathan was cordial enough, hands tucked into his pockets with the leash hanging out from one. The little goat shifted playfully around his feet as it attempted to climb his shoes and left tiny scuffs on the expensive leather. It bleated and nibbled at his slacks, pulling on the fabric in refusal to be ignored. Jonathan smiled apologetically as he bent down in a quick movement and pulled the little creature up into his arms so it could rest against his chest. It wiggled slightly until comfortable then settled into the gentle petting and chin scratches offered by the doctor.

“You do know that’s not a dog right Reid?” Geoffrey gave the doctor a once over, genuinely surprised the little beastie wasn’t a midnight snack already. Especially knowing Reid’s appetite for rodents.

“Yes I am aware what it is McCullum.” Jonathan answered with a weary sigh as if this wasn’t the first time he’s had to answer that same question. “Mr. Hampton asked me to find this little one a home. It is but one of the many unfortunate souls to pass through his Night Asylum sadly. People can hardly feed themselves these days let alone their pets.”

“And so you’ve decided to keep it? I don’t expect it to last very long around a leech.” He answered with a sharp dismissal. Jonathan frowned at the hunter, his displeasure made known only by the brief flicker of annoyance in his eyes but it was gone before Geoffrey could really savor it.

“If your presence here is only to be a bother, I’m certain you can find more productive ways of spending your night McCullum.” Jonathan directed. “I need to get this little one back home before I start my rounds."

"Don't want your patients seeing you with it?" He prodded teasingly, inspecting the doctor's barely concealed frown as he adjusted the now wiggling goat in his arms. Jonathan bent over and returned it to all fours on the ground before straightening up.

"I have no problem with that. Animals are proven to be very therapeutic for the sick and frail. Goatfrey is still too young and fragile to accompany me on my rounds." He answered matter-of-factly.

McCullum was not deaf enough to ignore the bark of laughter from O'Connor that erupted behind him. His brow cocked almost in challenge as he spoke lowly. "What did you name it?"

The mischievous curl of lips earned from the doctor set a muscle throbbing just under Geoffrey's eye as Jonathan answered innocently. "Goatfrey. I thought it highly fitting since he is such a little rascal and doesn't like to listen to me."

"Tell me you're joking leech." The scowl that spread on Geoffrey's face was a cold one as he glared daggers at the doctor's mocking smile.

"I do need to be getting back. Good night, my dear hunter." He waved dismissively as he headed back the way the pair came. Geoffrey was left staring after the bouncing ball of white fur with all the seething hatred of a man slighted. His second joined him at the bottom of the church steps, a barely concealed smile playing on his lips as the esteemed leader of the Guard of Priwen had the sudden urge to kill something leech shaped.


	2. Chapter 2

Jonathan was struggling, that much was obvious. He accepted Sean’s request readily and with much enthusiasm but quickly realized that he hadn’t anticipated all the work that comes with handling a barn animal. Of course, Goatfrey was still very small and manageable. It was easy enough to find him food for a proper diet, more so than it would have been to feed a dog or cat and house training the little goat would be its own problem later on down the line. He took it out regularly for walks to do its business and let it burn all that pent up energy out and kept it in a warm paper lined cage in his personal quarters.

Getting the animal up there in the first place was the true problem. As far as he knew, animals were not allowed inside the hospital space but given the circumstances and his position, he considered it a generous bit of advice and not so much a rule. Animals did wonders for the levels of stress in a person and if anyone needed stress relief, it was hospital staff.

He stopped on his way to the hospital, giving himself enough time to remove his coat and scoop little Goatfrey up into his arms. He carefully wrapped the animal in the thick warm fabric of his coat, holding him so just his snout peeked out through small opening. He cradled him carefully against his chest and made his way to the hospital courtyard. He had the keys to the side doors, slipping into the empty hallway with his head on a swivel. Of all the staff, Nurse Branagan was his main concern. He was certain Nurse Hawkins and Milton would find his predicament amusing and Nurse Crane would ignore him for the sheer fact she had better things to concern herself with than their head surgeon’s interest in pets.

Ensuring that the coast was clear with a flicker of his heightened senses, he started a brisk pace to the end of the hall, doing one quick sweep before making the short distance to the steps. If he could just get up the main staircase without being noticed, he would be home free. His advances fell short when one unseen complication reared its head.

Just as he turned the corner, he came face to face with one of the few mobile patients that lurked the hospital halls regularly. The young brunette woman turned with a brief look of surprise on her tired and ragged features. Her eyes lighting up with mischief as she drank in the disheveled appearance of the doctor. His coat piled up in an unsightly way in his arms, the bundle closely guarded pulling a curious smile on her lips.

“What do you have there mortal?” Thelma called, causing Jonathan to jolt in surprise at how loud her voice rang in his ears. He really didn’t have time to indulge in her fantasies today when Nurse Branagan could return any moment now.

“Good evening Miss Howcroft.” He bid with a polite smile. His posture straightened as he gently adjusted the weight in his arms. Goatfrey started to squirm impatiently against his chest, causing the bundle of fabric to shift visibly. Jonathan tried to hide the movement with his own, clearing his throat. “My apologies Mistress of the Dark, but I must take my leave.”

She raised an incredulous brow, straightening herself up in a prominent stance, one hand resting on her hip as she raised the other to point sternly at him. “You will reveal to me what you are hiding mortal. I command it.” She narrowed her eyes challenging him to disobey her evil bidding. He sighed, a heavy weary sound that turned into a soft gasp when Goatfrey bleated softly in response. He squirmed and wiggled more furiously now seeking the freedom to run around to his heart's content. His head wormed its way through the opening of Jonathan’s jacket to peer pale blue-grey eyes up at the patient.

Thelma sucked in a sharp breath of incredulity, staring at the small fragile creature in the doctor’s arms. “Please Mistress, I beg of you do not tell a soul of this little one’s presence.” Jonathan pleaded. “I do not wish for Nurse Branagan to find out.”

She nodded quickly in understanding, one hand reaching out to gently touch its nose with a giddy smile spreading on her lips. She quickly covered it, reining her expression back to one of posh indifference. “You have my mercy mortal. I will keep your secrets in return you shall continue my dark bidding.”

“Yes. I must go Mistress of the Dark. I leave you to your nocturnal activities.” He bowed his head quickly, glancing back over his shoulder to ensure they were still alone before skirting around her thin frame and racing up the steps as quickly as possible without drawing on his vampiric senses. It would have been far less complicated had he just shadow jumped to his balcony but he wasn’t sure what kind of complications that would cause for such a small fragile creature. He had a hard enough time getting used to the jumps himself, he couldn’t imagine doing the same to sweet little Goatfrey.

His relief was a steady swell in his chest when he was finally within the confines of his personal quarters. The space was quiet and thankfully the staff knew better than to enter unbidden. He sat the squirming bundle down onto the floor where Goatfrey tromped around excitedly, bouncing on tiny hooves that clicked against the floor, inspecting the new and exciting environment around him. His tiny bleats were eager as the courageous little creature already started to climb the boxes and shelves of his office space. Jonathan made a mad scramble around to goat proof his quarters, even taking care to move Lisa to a higher location to keep her from being eaten by the overly curious animal. 

Nearly an hour had past when Jonathan finally plopped down tiredly in his bed, his shoulders sagging as he inspected the little animal as he walked towards the doctor and gently headbutted his shin. Jonathan chuckled and reached down to run his fingers over the baby goat’s head and down along the soft white fur on its back. “It would seem I’ve aptly named you. You’re just as nosy and demanding as our dear hunter, hm?” He hummed pleasantly, offering a laugh as the goat bleated as if in agreement.


	3. Chapter 3

It didn’t take long for the news to spread. The Guards of Priwen had a knack for gossiping like fish wives when it came to the higher ranks and McCullum’s new plight was a tale every guard was eager to hear about. They would murmur in the halls and between patrols when they’d catch sight of the esteemed doctor walking the little kid at his side, held in reach by the leash and unscathed by any signs of teeth. It was both fascinating and distinctly wrong at the same time, how a leech could wander about with such a creature as if it were normal behavior for the streets of London.

“Yer so concerned that he’s gonna eat the goat, sir. Did you ever consider that maybe he named it after ya because he wants to eat you?” O’Connor offered very unhelpfully at his side, causing Geoffrey to reel back from the report he was reading and scowl at his second in command. The cheeky smile aimed his way was disregarded quickly by the raised hand. O’Connor moved out of reach already well aware how badly McCullum wanted to hit him for it. The red flush that curled across his cheeks like a blushing winter wind had nipped at his face but that was clearly absent in the warm office lit by the soft glow of firelight.

“Thank you for volunteering yourself for Sewer patrols O’Connor. Your eagerness is appreciated in your duties to Priwen.” McCullum growled, turning his attention back to the papers laid out on his desk, making the aforementioned corrections to the night’s rotations. He handed the sheet off to O’Connor to pass on to the teams for the evenings. The grumbled roll of eyes ensued as the man moved to leave the office, pausing for a moment to glance back at his leader thoughtfully.

“Maybe doctor leech is just trying to prove a point to you.” O’Connor tried again. “That he’s not a normal leech. He can keep his fangs to himself.” Geoffrey didn’t encourage the lingering comment with any sign of attention, allowing O’Connor to slip out of the office and render the room silent once more.

He frowned at the papers before giving up with a heavy sigh. They fell to the surface with the rest of the clutter that was spread across his desk, unusually disorganized for once. Recent events had his thoughts scattered and his space even worse for wear. He was tired, made restless by the endless questions of _ what if’s _that rang far too loudly in his head when the evening is too quiet for his nerves. His thoughts had trailed towards what O’Connor had mentioned on more than one occasion but he doubted he could justify allowing that sort of pardon for a leech just because he started carrying a personal mascot around with him. One day he would lose himself and that little babe will fall beneath his fangs and he’d only prove to the world just how much of a beast he truly is. And on that day, Geoffrey will be waiting.

The office was far too stuffy and stale for his liking and his nerves were itching to get out into the night to stretch his legs and hunt a few Skals. He donned his coat and gear, ensuring his sword was seated nicely in his scabbard, the crossbow on his wrist was secured properly and all the knives and supplies were snug in their pouches and pockets. He sighed pleasantly with the familiar weight as he made his way through the cool quiet streets of Whitechapel. His eyes scanned the open quiet streets, inspecting the usual rabble that scurried from one end to the other. Mr. Darby was still scrounging for a story of the century while Cristina lingered at the bottom of the church steps looking for the wayward sinners that found their way to her side. He spotted her slipping around the corner of an alley with a random John, the sultry look she offered him was a clean mask of disinterest creeping beneath. He knew well enough that the woman needed to eat and in doing so, required her to make some unsavory choices day in and day out.

He passed no judgement on the common folk who struggled to make ends meet and put food on the table for their families. It was hard enough before the epidemic and with rations cut and all the usual suppliers of fresh goods either dead or run off for the countryside where the spread of sickness was less likely, the people in the East End, the Docks and Whitechapel were suffering more than usual. Even Priwen was barely making by with what measly funds they had, their sponsors were few and far between, the meager earnings they scrounged up from the abandoned homes and former vampires they dispatched could barely cut it for food rations. Let alone clothing, ammunitions and medicine.

Every member of Priwen made sacrifices for the cause. They gave up the little luxuries and offered what they could. Geoffrey had done much the same in his early years. His family was poor, even by Dublin standards. He gave what remained in his old childhood home to Carl, brought the rest that mattered along with him, a reminder of why he joined in the first place. He worked hard, he pulled every coin he could and put it back into the cause. He believed. It was better than the meager earnings of the docks where his immigrant status would be abused for lesser pay than the natives that lurked along the edges of the London proper. 

Even in squalor, there was prejudice. A filthy peasant was somehow _ better _still as long as they were a native.

He shook his head, dismissing the bitter thoughts that crept into his mind, curling like barbed wire against the back of his skull and raking painfully at old memories better left forgotten. The soft sound of clicking drew him out of his bitter revelry as his head snapped up. He was just about to cross over into the Docks headed for Southwark when the noise drew him towards a darkened alleyway. The soft clumsy sounds were almost familiar but he couldn’t place it until the shrill squeals and screams met his ears.

The hunter bolted towards the shadows, sword drawn in preparation when the tiny white blur raced towards him. Its little hooves beating the cobblestones with frantic cries. Geoffrey’s eyes widened when the dark leather of the leash snagged on debris and jerked the little babe back sharply. Its frantic screams were cut off to a strangled bleat. Behind it was three Skals rushing out of the shadows with hungry snarls. Geoffrey placed himself between the baby goat and the beasts, sword raised in a wide arching slash that severed the head of one clean off. The other two backed away quickly, hunkered down with curled lips dripping decayed flesh and rotting blood. 

Geoffrey ignored the desperate scrambling of the baby goat as it tried to flee, throwing its head back and forth as it fought against the leather leash and harness. A Skal pounced towards him just as he lunged forward, sheathing the blade through its chest and heaving upwards, tearing through soft tissue and further breaking apart bone before kicking the Skal back into its companion. He raised the crossbow and fired off a bolt into the impaled Skal’s skull, watching as the decaying matter splattered across the face of its stunned companion.

Geoffrey made quick work of the last Skal, swinging his sword with ease as it sliced through the shoulder of the creature, cleaving the neck apart with a strong motion, the momentum following through. The bodies crumpled to the ground with a sickening thud. He shook the blood off of his blade, wiping it clean on the filthy fabric of the dead Skal’s clothes before returning it to its scabbard. He turned towards the frightened little goat who had promptly wet the cobblestones around its hooves with little brown pellets littering the stonework. He grimaced, reminded of the sheep back in Dublin and sighed, disentangling the little creature and lifting it up into his arms, hushing it softly as it squirmed and cried.

“Calm down little one.” He hummed gently, stroking a clean hand over the soft white fur and inspecting the small specks of blood that stained the grey and blue sweater that shielded its tiny body from the elements. It stilled in his arms as he looked around, searching for any sign of the good doctor. “Where is your daddy?” He asked, hushing its tiny bleats of distress as he soothed it with gentle touches and cradled it close to his chest.

He followed the alley to an opening near the docks where a series of gates separated the residential areas from the factories. There was a long streak of fresh blood that smeared the ground, kicked up gravel scattered across the earth where a scuffle had been had. He paused, going quiet as he covered one hand over the little goat’s muzzle to silence it, straining to listen for trouble. He was rewarded with the explosion of shadows that burst out of the factory as Jonathan attempted to steady himself after a Vulkod threw him into a wall. His hand reached out to grapple the discarded chains from the ceiling, the inhuman crack of bone pulled a pained scream from Jonathan’s lips. He yanked the chains free of their position, whipping it around as he lashed at the Vulkod. 

The beast charged at him with an enraged roar. The Ekon dodged in a flash of shadows only to reappear on its back, the chains looped around its head as he proceeded to strangle it. It reached up, bucking and twisting in an attempt to throw him off but the doctor was stubborn, wrapping the chain around a second then third time. He twisted it together, his left arm stumbling over the motions as he struggled to move it. He hooked the ends on the steel beams above and watched as the creature struggled to free itself. The doctor promptly drew a metal rod from the burning pile of trash in the center of the abandoned factory, driving the heated piece of rebar into the back of the Vulkod’s skull, ending its life with a pained snarl.

Jonathan leaned against a shelf, his body unsteady as he adjusted his injured arm, cradling it against his side. His nostrils flared with the scent of blood rushing to his senses. He stumbled a step, his attention snapping up towards the hunter as the little goat bleated in his arms. His grip on the tiny creature tightened as he watched Jonathan’s stern and wild expression soften with relief. 

“Goatfrey!” He called breathlessly, pushing away from the shelves towards McCullum. “I’m so glad to see he’s safe.”

McCullum tensed, his hand twitching with the urge to reach for his sword but he stopped himself. His lips drew back into a scowl as he snapped. “It almost became a Skal snack.”

Jonathan paused in his approach, his gaze dropped to search both McCullum and the little goat for any unseen injuries. The assessment was quick and somewhat uncomfortable for the hunter but when those bright blue eyes returned to meet McCullum’s, he couldn’t help the relief in knowing the leech was safe and sound. Well, mostly. His gaze fell to the injured shoulder that was quite literally, bent out of shape. “Gonna tell me what happened? Why I found this little fecker wandering Whitechapel?”

Jonathan drew in a heavy sigh, looking back at the Vulkod and the two dead Skals he dispatched earlier. Their blood splattered the factory floors around the impromptu bonfire. “Our usual walk ended on an unpredictable note. The Vulkod came out of nowhere and I had little time to react. I trusted Goatfrey’s animal instincts would see him to safety.” He gave a half hearted gesture with a small smile at the hunter. “I am pleased to see my trust in him was rewarded.”

“I should have let it be eaten on principle alone after you named it Goatfrey.” McCullum frowned at the leech, shaking his head in disgust as he gazed down at the frightened little beast.

“Come now McCullum, you wouldn’t let an innocent die now would you?” The teasing tone was strained as the doctor shifted on unsteady feet. The hunter predicted unseen injuries after the doctor had been tossed around so easily by the Vulkod. Even on a good day with a full patrol, those bloody bastards were a hell and a half to deal with. Taking one on alone with two Skal would be suicide. He’s seen a single Vulkod rip lesser Ekon apart without a second thought. But then again, Jonathan wasn’t just some lesser Ekon.

“Hm, it does look like a meal waiting to happen. Fatten it up a little more and maybe it’ll be something worth saving.” He answered, catching the genuine concern on the doctor’s face. He barked out a laugh, adjusted the goat in his arms as he stroked one hand over its muzzle and scratched under its jaw. “How do you expect to get home like that?” He nodded towards the Ekon’s wounded arm.

“I can reset it when I return to Pembroke. It’s not that far of a walk.”

“How are you going to get this little one in there? I didn’t know the hospital admitted pets now.” McCullum pointed out.

Jonathan raised an amused brow at the hunter which only rubbed Geoffrey the wrong way. He grimaced as Reid spoke. “Is that the sound of you offering your assistance McCullum?”

“Why would I do that leech?” He snapped with the appropriate amount of vitriol dripping through his words. It didn’t dissuade the twisted smile on the doctor’s face. He rolled his eyes and handed the goat back to the doctor. “Deal with your own damn problems. I’m done saving your arse.”

Reid stifled the groan that followed as he accepted Goatfrey into his arm, adjusting his hold to better support the little one against his chest. His fingers massaging over the beast’s chest and shoulders in gently ministrations. He watched with surprise as Geoffrey turned sharply to leave, storming out of the courtyard of the factory and back through the gates headed towards Whitechapel. He could almost swear the hunter was mumbling something under his breath but he was too distracted to try and decipher what exactly it was. He had a sneaking suspicion that he wouldn’t be able to understand it even if he did.


	4. Chapter 4

It was an inevitable fact Jonathan was forced to realize sooner or later. After all, he couldn’t keep a baby goat hidden in the hospital of all places without someone noticing. They were doctors after all. They were far from stupid and despite the state of exhaustion each and every one of them faced daily, they were far from oblivious. Both Thelma Howcroft and Thomas Elwood had been more than eager to help him sneak the little creature in and out when needed, hiding him in the storerooms and keeping him occupied when Jonathan was forced to do the usual rounds, even going so far as to hide little Goatfrey under a bed with the sheets tossed over the edge when Nurse Branagan stormed through, staring them both down with suspicious looks. Thomas groaned miserably and Thelma smiled her sweet little smile as she bit off a quaint “Mortal.” In the nurse’s direction. Branagan rolled her eyes and walked away with a frustrated huff, freeing the pair from their mockery of indifference to return to doting over the small creature.

Goatfrey was more than eager for the attention and the games they played, learning rather quickly to remain quiet when the nurses came near. Jonathan would collect the little rascal when it came time for their walk and only once did he have to clean up an unfortunate accident in the spare storeroom where the records and discarded crates were kept when Goatfrey had become too anxious. It was a brief occurrence and they were all very lucky to keep the secret as long as they had. Jonathan occupied no delusions that this would remain. He needed to come clean soon and with a heavy sigh, he was certain he had calculated the proper course of action in approaching Edgar.

Jonathan sucked in a deep breath and steeled himself for the encounter, leaving Goatfrey in Thelma's care while she sat at the top of the stairwell, waiting quietly for his signal. Goatfrey was cradled carefully in her lap as she stroked her fingers through his fur and massaged along his shoulders and down to his flank. The sweater was rumpled up around his upper torso and back from the movement but the baby goat wasn't at all bothered by this. Tossing one last curious glance towards the woman, he knocked on the door to Edgar's office.

"Come in." The doctor called. 

Jonathan pushed the door open, greeted with the usual enthusiasm reserved only for him. He offered a polite professional smile to the man as he slipped through the door and lingered nearby. "Dr. Swansea, I was hoping to have a moment of your time."

"Of course Jonathan! Come in." He beckoned him closer but Reid only neared a few steps. He was caught between keeping a close eye on the pair right outside the room and regarding Edgar's curious gaze. "Is something the matter? You seem distracted."

"Well, truth be told I am. There is somebody I've been meaning to bring up and well, they're right outside the door waiting." He admitted softly. Edgar cocked a brow, shifting to a more subdued position in his chair.

"Who might that be?"

"Goatfrey-"

"Jonathan!" Edgar blurted, cutting him off suddenly as Swansea stood bolt upright from his desk. "You invited that ruffian into the hospital?"

"Edgar, you misunderstand." Jonathan tried with a gentle sort of politeness reserved often for the quietly confused patients he encounters regularly. "I do not mean the Priwen Leader."

"What?" His confusion was almost comical as the doctor went through what could be considered the stages of grief but on a far smaller scale. He tried to work out the meaning of this conversation. 

"Goatfrey." Jonathan pronounced carefully. "My pet."

"Your pet?" Edgar echoed. "As in…._ pet?" _

"I have no idea what you're insinuating Edgar." Jonathan spoke firmly, his patience running weary at this point.

"You wouldn't be the first of your kind to indulge in those sorts of…_ practices." _ Edgar continued. "There is nothing to be ashamed of my friend."

Jonathan couldn't help the imagery that he pondered at that, of his dear Hunter knelt before him wearing a carefully chosen collar of the most lavish and expensive leather, trailing gleefully by his heels at the end of a leash. It was not something he would indulge in or even admit to. It was a brief thought, nothing more than a flickering light in the firefly field of racing thoughts across his mind. He dismissed it as quickly as it came and cleared his throat. 

"Edgar, Goatfrey is my pet goat." He pressed with growing frustration. He turned quickly to the door, hoping to end the discomfort this discussion had started to beckon Thelma over. He carefully collected the little babe into his arms with a murmured thanks. She parted quickly back down the stairs as Jonathan closed the door and turned towards the doctor with his pet cradled to his chest.

Edgar's shock was genuine as the doctor inspected the little white creature, fur so fine and silky under Jonathan's touch, clothed in a lavish looking sweater one might see on the posh canines of the West End.

"Oh. I see now." Edgar blanched. He worked his mouth to speak, paused, closed it then started again a moment later. "What drew you to a uh, _ goat _of all things?"

"Sean needed help finding the little one a new home after one of his refugees could no longer care for it. I offered my assistance and in truth, he's rather grown on me." Jonathan admitted sheepishly, smiling down at the gentle bleating from the tiny creature. It was warm and relaxed in his arms as his fingers scratched beneath its chin. Goatfrey nestled against his shoulder, giving it a gentle headbutt demanding more attention than what he was already receiving.

Jonathan obliged only too eagerly, fingers itching behind the drooped ears and along the back of its head as the little goat grunted in contentment. Edgar watched with fascination as the vampire doctor looked so commonly human in its presence. As if his affliction never even existed. The ease it stirred in him, the relaxed and easy going posture, the unguarded stance. The man was so comfortable, something Edgar hadn't seen since the night he offered Jonathan the position at Pembroke and gave him a change of clothes. The transition from bloody rags to something far cleaner and familiar had drawn out the same expression of contentment in the man that was shown here.

"So you uh, want to keep this pet of yours in the hospital?" Edgar started, considering what exactly this visit must be about. "You do understand the sanitary conditions needed, yes?"

"Of course Edgar. I have been keeping Goatfrey in my personal quarters for the time being. I take him out for walks to conduct his business and burn off energy. Occasionally Miss Howcroft and Mr. Elwood offer to keep Goatfrey busy." He informed with a soft sigh. "Edgar, I've heard of the therapeutic effects of animals in the presence of the ill and disabled but I've never seen it up close before. The way those two open up in his presence, the change he brings is phenomenal."

"Are you requesting permission for something Jonathan?" Edgar asked pointedly, inspecting the delighted expression on the other doctor's face, normally so carefully schooled into a modicum of control. It would seem the goat had caused a change in more than just the patients.

Jonathan gave a sheepish shrug at first, tilting his head to dodge the wayward tongue of the goat as it nuzzled against his neck. The pink tip sticking out at him comically. Bright eyes gazed up at him with greedy demands. He laughed softly. "I suppose I am. This sort of therapy would require little supervision from the staff and wouldn't deter other activities in the hospital. We may be able to more properly tend to our mentally ill patients aside from handing out medicine for headaches or fatigue." He reasoned.

Edgar stared at him incredulously. "I do not want this hospital to become a barnyard Jonathan." He started.

"It won't Edgar. I promise. Goatfrey would be the only one. I can't abandon him and I am his only means of survival during these trying times." Jonathan answered sternly, a weight pressing against his words quietly demanding approval. Edgar sighed heavily and gave a dismissive wave. 

"I'll inform the staff then of our new _ addition _ to the roster." The doctor glanced over the odd pair with a scrunched up expression of discontent. "Why did you name it _ Goatfrey _ of all things?"

"I hadn't decided on a name yet to be honest and while I was walking this little one through Whitechapel, I came across McCullum. He was being the usual thorn in my side so I guess the name was out of sheer spite at the time. It's starting to grow on me though." Jonathan adjusted the little goat against his chest as it wiggled in his arms with impatience.

"How unfortunate." Edgar heaved a heavy sigh. "Well then Jonathan, if you've nothing more to discuss I'm certain you have other duties to attend to."

"Of course. Thank you for your understanding sir." He offered, backing away towards the door. His vision shifted to the muted tones of his vampiric senses as he searched the hallway outside, noting not just one but two familiar heartbeats lingering on the steps. He smiled, stepping through the doorway to tell Miss Howcroft and Mr.Elwood the good news.


	5. Chapter 5

It wasn’t that Geoffrey took pleasure in seeing the odd leech crossing his path, no he couldn’t necessarily admit to that. It would be absolutely preposterous for such a feeling to occur. He reasoned he was more relieved each time he saw the leech accompanied by that bouncing baby goat that trailed after the vampire with dumb adoration. The creature obviously lacked self-preservation skills instinctively honed by years in the rough environment of the outdoors. It didn’t recognize a predator right in front of its eyes. Geoffrey refused to admit he felt concern for the stupid little beast. If it was content to lie with the lion, then who was he to deny it the horrific death that would surely come when the leech tired of it.

He ignored O’Connor’s teasing words as his second accompanied him, taking note of the near permanent scowl the hunter wore when he’d catch sight of the odd pair. His eyes never wavering as he trailed after the leech and watched him lead the stupid little babe along the cobblestones in the classy dumbly expensive sweater. He raised a brow when he noticed today it wore a little black and white garment that seemed a bit overdone with the blue collar wrapped around its throat. A tiny little bell rang softly as it bounced and stomped around Jonathan’s feet when the doctor paused to talk with one of his passing patients.

“Sir, yer gonna scare the recruits if you keep that up.” O’Connor hummed in amusement, watching Geoffrey turn his gaze with a shadowy look. The second could have sworn that scowl deepened with an underlying seething hatred. It was honestly a bit terrifying to be on the other end of. “Or not. Continue burning holes into the doctor leech.”

Geoffrey gave a derisive snort as he shook his head. His attention turning towards their nightly patrol through Whitechapel though his thoughts were taken by the prickling warning of trouble. His head snapped up, feeling O’Connor bump into his side with a grunt as the good doctor called out for him. “McCullum! Wait!”

“Bloody hell.” He spat, turning on the doctor as he approached briskly, the little goat tucked into the front of his jacket protectively. His brows furrowed in worry, a look Geoffrey was unaccustomed to seeing on the other man. He rarely looked out of sorts compared to the cool proper demeanor. Always so calm with the hints of a smile curling beneath the surface. The light always so bright in his pale blue eyes. But now, a shadow had fallen over him, something weighing on his mind and his shoulders. “What is it?” He reeled back some of the venom, giving the doctor a quick once over as he waited for an answer.

“I really hate to ask this of you but I have no other choice at the moment. This isn’t exactly ideal but could I make a request of your services?” Jonathan started. Geoffrey raised a brow at the doctor. O’Connor shifted uncomfortably by his side with consideration, acting like he wasn’t waiting with baited breath to find out what exactly was going on and reading far too heavily into the lack of formality between the two. Geoffrey anticipated the hell waiting for him at the end of the night when the rest of his men catch wind of this encounter.

“Spit it out leech.” Geoffrey snapped impatiently. 

“An emergency came up and I need to go _ now. _ I cannot take Goatfrey with me.” He gestured with a bob of his head towards the little bundle in front of him. Geoffrey grimaced at the request, opening his mouth to refuse when Jonathan cut him off. “ _ Please Geoffrey. _ It’s a matter of life and death.” He pressed more desperately. The sullen expression, the frantic look in the doctor’s eyes swayed him to believe the leech. At least the little babe would be spared a horrific death for one more night while it stayed with Priwen.

“Fine. Give it here.” He held his hands out expectantly. Jonathan looked genuinely shocked at the acceptance. The doctor looked prepared to argue should he refuse but he handed the goat over without question. McCullum adjusted Goatfrey in his arms for comfort, letting it rest its chin against his shoulder and nuzzle against his scarf.

“Thank you. I owe you.” Jonathan sighed in relief, turning quickly to rush off into the night. Geoffrey scowled after the doctor realizing he never left instructions on how he’ll get the goat back exactly. He summed it up to the leech relying on his leech powers to track them down. It wouldn’t be the first time. He let out a suffering sigh, inspecting the little bundle against his chest and realized he wouldn’t be able to get any patrol work done tonight carrying a babe around with him.

“Fuck!” He cursed, shaking his head. O’Connor snickered at his back, placing a hand on the hunter’s shoulder in a sympathetic pat before moving it to pet the baby goat instead. Geoffrey glared at him with contempt but the heat left his expression when Goatfrey let out an insistent bleat. 

“Sounds like someone’s hungry.” O’Connor chuckled as the goat turned to suckling on his finger, letting out another frustrated cry at the two hunters.

“Since when did Priwen turn into a babysitting service?” Geoffrey grumbled. 

O’Connor laughed as the two started to walk back towards the main street heading for their headquarters, calling it an early night. “You say that like its not been already. I mean, you’ve seen some of the recruits.”

Geoffrey sighed. “Good point.”

It took a bit of finagling but they were able to gather enough supplies to make up a bottle for the little babe. O'Connor estimated the goat was old enough for solid food but by how much suckling it was doing, he reasoned the good doctor leech was giving it a balanced diet of both solids and milk to make up for the missed nutrients it should have gotten with its mother. Geoffrey sat on the floor of his office while O'Connor made a warm bottle with a powdered milk mixture and hot water, tempering it so it wasn't too hot for the little one.

He handed it off to McCullum who balanced the babe in his lap. It had covered his fingers in spittle from suckling at each knuckle with insistent hungry bleats. He worked his fingers away from its mouth long enough to put the improvised nipple into its mouth. He mused at the sort of supplies Priwen had lying around. From the sounds of it, it was leftover from when Priwen used to raise horses. Bottle feeding the young foals was necessary in bonding with them so they could be raised up strong and fierce. Trained not to spook easily in the presence of vampires and to trust their riders.

That was long before Geoffrey had joined the ranks of Priwen. O'Connor had been around about as long, his own mentor had been one of the old stablehands back when Priwen had the resources to keep them. When things got tight and the rest of Priwen was drawn into London, pulling all of their resources into one place. Back when the Guard wandered the countryside and investigated small farming communities, the horses were necessary and some guards had even taken to raising livestock to help feed the men or make extra money on the side for the cause.

_ How the times have changed. _ He sighed. His gaze dropped to inspect the little goat as it pushed against the bottle, pulling greedy swallows through the nipple as it gulped down the warm milk. He stroked a hand down it's back, gliding over the carefully placed sweater on its chest. He had half a mind to cut the fucking thing off but he reasoned Reid had chosen the item for the sheer fact it warmed the baby when a mother's body heat was absent. It didn't have a warm stall full of straw to nestle into to ward off the nightly chill.

"Sir?" O'Connor asked quietly, sitting cross legged across from Geoffrey. 

The hunter hummed in answer urging him to continue. After a moment of no answer, he spoke up firmly. "What is it?"

"This goat is a lass." O'Connor pointed out, his lips curled back into the dark beard that stretched along his jawline. His amusement hardly concealed.

"What?"

"Its a girl." The second said more clearly.

"And?"

He sighed. "Either doctor leech can't tell ass from vagina which I doubt given his professional reputation, or he never thought to look."

"Okay." McCullum frowned in confusion as to why this was relevant at all. "Why are you pointing this out?"

"He named a bitch goat after you." O'Connor laughed.

"He's just asking to get stabbed now." Geoffrey's scowl was one to rival his earlier foul mood, giving O'Connor good reason to scamper off for the safety of another room. He only returned when the bottle was empty and Geoffrey was stuck with a sleeping baby in his lap. The second in command gathered two spare wool blankets up and with an old ammunition crate, made a warm nest to lay the little one in. Goatfrey bleated softly, a sleep muffled sound that warmed Geoffrey's heart to hear. He stroked a finger along its head before retreating to his desk to finish his reports before the sun rose. The night had been a long one and he had his patrols keeping an eye out for Jonathan should he be out wandering in search of his absent pet.

If he didn't see him by dawn's first light, he figured he'd be right back the next night wandering Whitechapel with that unfathomable hope in his eyes. Geoffrey disregarded the thought with a dismissive wave and settled in for the evening, his attention straying only long enough to check on little Goatfrey while she slept off her meal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If anyone is interested, there is a Vampyr server called Pembroke Hospital on discord. 
> 
> Its a small server for now but OC's, artists and writers are welcome to join or readers to come and lurk. All are welcome to join. 
> 
> https://discord.gg/S6hCEYz


	6. Chapter 6

The night was a mess right from the beginning. Jonathan had hoped to have a nice leisurely stroll through Whitechapel without the world going to hell in a handbasket just once, but that was too much to ask for. He and Goatfrey barely made it through the gates of Whitechapel street and into the district proper when his attention was drawn rather suddenly to a sickly patient in need of assistance in a nearby tenant structure. He lucked out that Geoffrey was patrolling nearby and was willing to watch Goatfrey for a little bit.

He had hoped to tend to the ill patient and return quickly to the hunter to retrieve his pet but his night only got worse from there on. The patient was stabilized with a severe case of bronchitis and anemia. He no sooner left the apartments three hours later only to come across a very hungry pair of Skals skulking about in an alleyway feasting on the fresh corpse of an unfortunate soul. After quickly dispatching the Skal, he discovered the fresh corpse was the same poor soul that brought him to the apartment in a rush for aid.

He shook the nagging guilt away that lurked on the edges of his mind, forcing himself to keep moving for the sake of his own sanity. Tonight was just not his night. He couldn’t quite recall how it came about, but a few briefly spoken words to the surrounding residents led him to Nurse Crane’s dispensary. His investigation into her activities around the hospital hadn’t gone unnoticed in the last few days but she didn’t seem the least bit shocked to see him stroll up the steps of her little hovel clinic. To be fair, she did have her hands full with a patient convulsing in respiratory distress.

What started with a frantic race against time to open an airway turned into open chest surgery and led to the death of the patient. Jonathan had tried his best, fighting against his impulses and his hunger as he struggled through the emergency surgery, his oath burning at the back of his mind as he ignored the thrumming pulse of blood beneath his fingers as he sutured the artery. The flood of copper to his senses as he reeled back with a bitten off snarl. He knew Nurse Crane noticed, even in the red haze that stole his vision briefly, he could tell by her posture that she knew. There was no way she couldn’t.

Despite it all, she was sympathetic towards his efforts but Mr.Vasile had no chance of surviving his illness. The odds were against him. His body made too fragile by the fever leading up to it. It didn’t make him feel any better about the loss. She watched him quietly as he scrubbed his hands clean of blood and stared at the red swirl of water circling the drain. It was a hard truth they all had to face. They were simply doctors, not miracle workers. Some people are beyond help and as bitter of a pill that is to swallow, it was one he had to remind himself of every now and then. Some people may not want to live and some are not _ meant _to. It’s the reality in which they live.

By the time he left the dispensary, he had very little desire to continue his rounds. Dawn was nearing and he had a long walk back to the Hospital. It was made longer by his own means as he cut through the docks, patrolling through the factories and letting the quiet lap at his mind. The mind numbing silence that chewed at the edges of his consciousness. He considered the idea of what might happen should a vampire drown? Would it stay dead? Would it die only to revive later and die again? It was a curious question, one of many that he has come to ponder in these dark days. When the shadows become too much and the workload too overwhelming. He hated himself for it, these morbid intrusive thoughts that clung to him even through the war and long before that. It was a terrifying symptom of his struggles in life, an ever present shroud cast over him.

In those early years, he would turn to Mary and the offered embrace that would wash relief over him in the wee hours of night. The softly spoken words of reassurance that offered such sweet sanctuary. A safe harbor against the raging storm in his head, as if the world were crumbling around him.

He shook the thoughts away and discarded any lingering ideas that crept into his mind. He could feel the sun was not far off and he needed to return home. He trusted that Goatfrey would be safe for the day to stay in Priwen’s possession. He would apologize thoroughly in the evening when next he saw Geoffrey, but for now he wanted nothing more than to sleep. 

  
  


Sleep came quickly but true rest was an elusive mistress. It was peculiar how quickly he had become accustomed to Goatfrey’s presence in his personal quarters. He would wake frantic when the sun slipped beneath the horizon, aware of the absence of a second heartbeat so close to him. His eyes scanning the empty cage half covered by the black out cloth he laid upon it to make the little one sleep through the days with him. His eyes slipping into that hazy washed out vision as he searched for the beating breathing figure of the little goat only for his weary thoughts to catch up and remind him that the vampire hunters were on babysitting duty.

He collapsed back into his bed with a sigh of relief and calculated just how much time it would take him to get dressed and make it to Whitechapel before Geoffrey inevitably hunts him down to end him for leaving him with the small creature. He was well aware Priwen may not be outfitted for handling such an addition and wondered if the little kid would be desperate and half starved in his absence without proper food or attention. Then again, he considered the chances of how many of Priwen were immigrants and a good portion appeared to be from good farming stock. Maybe they wouldn’t be so bad off.

It took him an hour just to get out of the hospital and away from the staff without them hunting him down to demand an extra set of hands. He had to slip past Edgar on more than one occasion and made his escape through the balcony and shadow jumped as quickly as possible across the bridge and out of sight until his head was spinning and his chest hurt. He braced against the gateway to steady himself, sucking in a few sharp breathes before heading along Whitechapel street towards the district proper. Knowing McCullum, he hoped the hunter would be lingering near their last meeting point with Goatfrey in tow. If not, then he would have to hunt the man down to get his pet back which sounded odd enough as is in his mind.

He arrived not long after, searching the area for any sign of the pair with longing looks. He shifted in place, a steadily growing frown creasing his features as he moved along the cobblestones at the bottom of the St Mary's Church steps. He ignored the irate rantings of Father Whitaker going off about some sin or another that the citizens have been found guilty of and whatever rapture was in store for them now. He didn’t bother to listen in as the man was both a criminal and a charlatan.

Jonathan’s displeasure was mounting when he bypassed Mr. Darby who was deep in conversation with Miss Cristina Popa. He brushed by Loretta Swansborough and ignored Joe Peterson who was currently arguing with Barrett Lewis over some trivial matter or another. Those two were strangely at odds all the time and he was genuinely shocked to find out that Mr. Peterson was unaware of the slight Mr. Lewis paid him or that poor Mr. Lewis was the true parent of young Harry Peterson. Instead their problems and feuds were purely on money and stances. Normally he would stop to intervene on such matters before things get too hostile but today he was too swept up in his own concerns to truly care on whether today would be the day Joe would bludgeon Barrett over security fees.

He had started to lose hope in finding McCullum when he came across a familiar broadly built towering figure. He distinctly recalled this man to be Geoffrey’s second, a hulking giant of a man with long dark brunet hair wrangled haphazardly back into a quick ponytail. A thick beard scruffed his jawline but was shapely and handsome in a brutish sense. He was donned in a dark leather coat, armed like most Priwen guards but what caught his attention first was the small flickering life in his front breast pocket. A small black rat popped up out of his pocket, nibbling at the shared crackers offered by the hunter. He smiled, speaking thickly in his native Gaelic before turning soft grey-blue eyes back towards Jonathan.

“Dr. Leech.” He greeted quietly with a bob of the head. “McCullum is at the Turtle with yer lass.”

“My lass?” Jonathan stared at the man in confusion.

“Goatfrey is a doe sir.” He informed. “Just a little she-goat.” He let out a breathy laugh. “I figured you’d not checked.”

Jonathan shook his head slowly. “I hadn’t...really thought about it. It felt strange to- you know.”

“Aye sir. I know. People and beasts ain’t much different sometimes.” He shrugged. “You best get to the Turtle though. He’s not keen on waiting when the night has the potential for a hunt.”

“Thank you, O’Connor was it?” Jonathan asked. He was met with a nod of confirmation. “I appreciate your assistance.” O’Connor gave him a dismissive wave, ushering the doctor off towards the Docks. 

True to his word, Geoffrey was seated in the Turtle, tucked behind the table in an empty booth furthest from all else, a pint of dark beer sitting in front of him and Goatfrey tucked under his arm trying to steal a few licks of his drink. Geoffrey hissed at the animal, trying to wrangle it away from his glass long enough to take a drink without the goat headbutting it out of his hands in a demand for attention.

“Good evening McCullum.” Jonathan greeted as he approached the table, closing distance with them. The hunter looked displeased, bristling with frustration as he shoved the leash towards Jonathan. 

“Leech. Take your damn pet back.” He grumbled as Jonathan scooped Goatfrey up with care. He settled in the seat across from him in the booth and watched Geoffrey sneer over the rim of his beer, glaring daggers at him. Jonathan decided to take this time to offer a formal apology while the hunter was busy.

“I am so sorry McCullum. I hadn’t known it would take so long. By the time I finished, the sun was rising.” He started, hand idly stroking Goatfrey’s face as his eyes fell away from the hunter to inspect his pet. He pressed a gentle kiss to the goat’s muzzle and was met with the fond nuzzling as Goatfrey bleated pleasantly at him. His shoulders slumped in relief to have the warm thriving body against his, the quiet reassurance that there was light in this world. That he had something to live for, even in this undead existence. He had someone worthwhile relying on him. It was a fragile hope but one that would see him through this raging storm that had become his life. 

“Save it leech.” McCullum answered sternly, setting his half empty glass on the table to inspect him closely. His fingers tapped the edge of the pint thoughtfully as if considering if the leech was worth his time. Jonathan had half a mind to excuse himself and leave McCullum to his evening, let him return to his hunt but he stayed. The pointed look aimed his way dashed any thoughts of retreat and pinned him in place. “You have that look in your eye.” He finally said. “What happened?”

Jonathan shook his head. “I’m a doctor McCullum. Not a miracle worker. There are some that can’t be saved and as much as I know that to be true, it doesn’t hurt any less when I lose them.” He looked down hard at his hands, reminded of the blood he washed away in the dispensary as Nurse Crane collected the tools of their efforts. He still needed to study the sample he had taken but that was for another night when his mind and heart were in the work.

"That at least we both understand." McCullum sighed, taking another drink of his pint and draining it down to the bottom. He sighed, gazing down at the empty glass longingly. "I don't envy you Reid. A creature cursed to the point he can't even drown his sorrows in proper drink."

He hummed thoughtfully then shrugged. "Consider staying indoors tonight. You may not be able to save them all but cherish the ones you still can." He offered before getting up from the booth, a few shillings left on the table for Sabrina to collect. He dropped a firm hand on Jonathan's shoulder, it was brief but there before it drifted to scruff the back of Goatfrey's head, scratching at her ears for a moment. Then McCullum left without further warning. Jonathan caught a glimpse with his heightened senses, of the familiar heartbeats pulsing just beyond the walls as O'Connor waited outside the Turtle with his pet rat. He fell into easy step beside McCullum as they started towards Whitechapel proper.

Jonathan tore his gaze away to look down at Goatfrey who bleated her discontent at the absence of petting. He smiled softly and took McCullum's words in with genuine consideration, deciding that maybe tonight would be best spent in the hospital.


	7. Chapter 7

This was his third pass by the hospital tonight alone. He would linger on the outskirts just over the bridge near Whitechapel Street, watching the balcony door leading to Jonathan’s office. The windows offered no light from within, and there was an absence of movement. The nurses still busied themselves around the hospital, moving in and out between the collection of tents and cots that covered the street and the courtyard filled with the sickly coughing patients. He caught no sight of Jonathan among them, even when he entered the hospital when that infuriating Nurse Branagan wasn’t lurking near the doors like a guard dog. He spotted the young woman he’d caught rumours about from his men, the one that believes she’s a vampire. One look at her and he could tell right away. She may be an insomniac but she was far from being a blood sucking leech. No matter how many times she nibbled on the burnt up soldier in the cot near her. He’d caught them crawling all over each other when they thought the staff were absent.

The young soldier straightened up in surprise and the woman tilted her head with a huffed out sigh of discontent. She crawled back to the edge of the cot, still straddling his legs with no regard for personal space or decorum. Geoffrey raised a brow at the pair and their stolen intimacy away from the staff. He couldn’t really judge them. Given the trying times they faced and their situation, he couldn’t fault them for seeking comforts where they could. Though he’d very much rather not walk in on it. 

“What do you want mortal? How dare you intrude upon my meal?” The woman spat out with a regail challenge, narrowing her eyes on him. It was almost comical if he was being honest. He hid the smile that crept up on his lips, pushing it back for more pressing matters at hand than the crazy woman and her delusions.

“I’m looking for Dr.Reid. Have you seen him?” Geoffrey’s voice was heavily woven with the strict notes of a man not meant to be disobeyed. The commanding tone made the young soldier flinch as he shook his head remorsefully.

“No sir. He’s not been here for days.” He glanced towards the woman who shifted off of his lap with a frustrated sound. He nodded apologetically to her as he sat upright, legs hanging off the edge of the bed. The woman sat beside him, her hand resting over his burnt fingers, gingerly tracing the outlines of his scars. “I overheard one of the doctors say he left.”

“Left?” Geoffrey clarified. “Did they say when he would be coming back?”

The young soldier shook his head. “When last I saw him, he looked upset and left quickly. He hasn’t been back since.” He paused, placing a hand over the woman’s thoughtfully. “That was….”

“Four days ago.” The woman helpfully supplied with a curt nod of her head. “He was useful while he lasted.” She huffed, tossing her head to cause her brown hair to fall over the ridge of her shoulders. It was just long enough to catch in the motion. 

“I see.” Geoffrey sighed, running a weary hand over his face as his eyes darted down the hall, considering his chances of finding patients who knew more than these two. He doubted from the state of the hospital that anyone else would be cognizant enough to be of any assistance. His thoughts were derailed when the familiar crowing barked through the entryway.

Both patients jolted in their seats, the young woman jumping to her feet and putting distance between herself and the young soldier as if they’d not been wrapped around each other just moments ago. Geoffrey rolled his eyes, turning to greet the irate Nurse Branagan.

“What on earth do you think you’re doing?” She very nearly yelled, only catching herself enough to ease her volume back for the sake of the sleeping patients in the next hall over.

“Looking for a doctor in this damn place.” Geoffrey hissed, narrowing his eyes on the nurse as she scowled at him with vitriol. “But the one I’m seeking ain’t here.”

“Such a shame then. That means you should leave. We don’t need your thugs starting problems with the patients.” She swatted towards him but the action was meant to miss. Geoffrey ignored her clucking and glanced back towards the pair.

“Did he leave alone?” The soldier looked between Geoffrey and Nurse Branagan in contemplation, considering the consequences of answering the hunter’s questions.

The young woman seemed displeased with the hesitance and stared Branagan down when the nurse willed her to silence. “Yes. He was on his own.”

“I see. Thank you for your time.” Geoffrey turned to leave, bypassing the Nurse when she attempted to blockade his path with stumbled protests. He briskly exited the hospital, ignoring the sideways glances aimed at him by the ambulance driver by the doors. The man’s hand rested on his hip next to the firearm seated in his holster.

He knew he should have left it at that, returned to his patrols and ignored the doctor’s absence but some part of him nagged at the idea that something was wrong. Of all the people he had come across, Reid was one of the most devoted to his duties at the hospital and to his skills as a Doctor. He wouldn’t just up and abandon his post so easily when there was still so much work to be done. If something had happened, something that caused him to leave so hastily in the night without a word of warning, it would have to be something important. His thoughts drifted back to the sullen expression that shadowed the doctor’s face the last time they met. Even under the bright lights of the Turtle, the dark shadows that hung heavily around him seemed stronger and more determined.

And then there was the matter of Goatfrey. He had left by himself, no sign of the little babe anywhere and he doubted Reid would hand it off to one of his colleagues so willingly. His worries morphed into anxiety at the prospect that the leech had given into its true nature and killed the little goat and potentially even someone else.

Geoffrey attempted to ignore these feelings of doubt that welled up inside him, scratching at the walls of his mind with all the intrusive little  _ what ifs _ that nagged and growled. He pressed on, returned to his usual routine and attempted to focus on his patrols. But as each night passed, he couldn't help the fact he found himself wandering along the very edges of Whitechapel, standing just over the bridge across from Reid's balcony, searching for some sign of life within. But with each night, he was met with darkness.

After a full week, he resigned himself to posting scouts in the area with orders to inform him should the doctor return at all. He didn't want to miss him if the opening arises. The days pulled by slowly as he glared at the scant scout reports. O'Connor watching him with a peculiar look, his thoughts written plain as day on his face.

"Shut it." Geoffrey growled as he tossed yet another useless report on his desk, ignoring the small rant about Miss Howcroft and her delusions of being a vampire. He knew perfectly well that she wasn't and was getting tired of correcting the information. Some days he questioned his recruits abilities to decipher one from the next. Insomnia does not make one a leech, no matter how bad it looks.

"I didn't say nothin sir." O'Connor answered, leaning against the wall by the door as his pet rat Francach nibbled at a stolen cracker in his pocket.

"I can hear you thinking it O'Connor." Geoffrey spat. 

The man in question could hardly conceal the smile that spread on his lips. He stroked a hand along his jaw, scratching at his beard as he attempted to dismiss the twitching muscles that threatened a breathy laugh. "Now yer sounding like a leech."

Geoffrey snapped his head up at the man, blinking in confusion before scowling further. "Considering how one track most of you are, you'd be a sad excuse at cards." He countered. "Stop your judging and spit it out then. It’s getting on my nerves."

"Maybe you need a break sir." O'Connor offered quietly, raising a brow at the other man. "You're worrying over things you can't control which isn't entirely bad but it's not helping you in the long run. The men are noticing and they're concerned."

"The men need to mind their own damn business." He huffed in annoyance. "Given the contents of these reports, they need to pay less attention to me and more to their training." He scoffed, gesturing dismissively at the two injury reports and one close call when a patrol somehow entirely overlooked the fact a Vulkod was roaming the Docks.

It had been nearly two weeks by this point and not sign of the good doctor. That didn't sit right with Geoffrey at all. It made something unpleasant coil tightly inside his stomach and his frown only furthered. His lips pulled back into a grimace as he pushed the papers aside. He hated this sitting and waiting but he knew if he went on patrol he'd both be too distracted for his work or find himself strolling past the hospital a dozen times in the night and end with the sun rising and nothing accomplished in his end. His nose scrunched up in disgust at that fact.

"Sir I really think you should-" O'Connor's opinion of what he  _ should  _ do was never heard thankfully enough because Geoffrey wasn't in the right mind to deal with the criticism directed at him by his second in command. It wasn't that he didn't appreciate the concern, it was simply that it was better directed at the other men in Priwen and not at him.

"Sir!" A voice called, the heavy frantic knocking startled both officers out of their stand off. 

"Enter!" Geoffrey barked sharply, turning his steely gaze onto the unsuspecting scout that slipped into the room. He stood straight backed and stunned, eyes darting from the second and back to Geoffrey. "Speak!"

"Uh, the leech doctor returned to the hospital sir." The man nearly stumbled on his words, shifting anxiously beneath Geoffrey's hard glare. He stood abruptly, causing the young man to flinch back.

"You're dismissed." Geoffrey barked. The young man couldn't escape the room fast enough as the hunter donned his gear in quick succession, pulling his coat on and settling his sword back in place, the familiar weight against his hip. He fore went his crossbow and decided less was more tonight. O'Connor eyed him curiously as the man moved to leave. He fell into step behind him, waving off the scowl aimed his way. 

"I'll keep the patrols tight to Whitechapel tonight. So you two can have yer privacy." He raised a brow at his leader as Geoffrey brushed off his mocking comment.

  
  
  


The hunter made short work getting to the outskirts of Whitechapel street. He knew the city streets like the back of his hand and was well versed in all the shortcuts and pathways the common folk often avoided due to the dangers they posed. A threat most imagined more akin to the Penny Dreadfuls than the beasts most often seen lurking in their shadows. He stopped at the entrance of the gates just over the bridge leading to Pembroke, his eyes fixed on the balcony entrance where the sparse few shreds of light peeked through the open slats in the windows.

His approach to the hospital was brisk, quickly paced and stern with purpose. He bypassed the tents filled with ailing patients being carefully tended to by the elderly Dr. Tippets and ignored Nurse Branagan who was too preoccupied with the aforementioned doctor to notice his presence. He cut through the entry gates turned triage center and crossed the threshold of the hospital just as the Pembroke ambulance driver took notice of his figure stalking by from a nearby tent. The man rushed at Geoffrey, calling out to him with sharply bitten off curses.

“Stop right there or I’ll shoot!” The man was fidgety with the handgun gripped tightly in his grasp. It wasn’t that this was the first time he’s used it, Geoffrey didn’t doubt that. But he assumed it’s been waved around to ward off the fevered and brazen looters. Not a man of Geoffrey’s caliber. 

The Leader of Priwen turned to face the man, just within the entrance of the hospital. They straddled the doorway with the cold air nipping at his neck and the bright lights casting shadows across the stained old tile floors. “So much for the laws of neutrality, eh Swansea?” He growled.

The ambulance driver cocked a brow at him, shifting the angle of the gun as he leveled it on Geoffrey’s chest. The Priwen leader didn’t have enough time for this, concerned that the good doctor will slip away unnoticed if he didn’t hurry and he would have to wait god knows how long before he’ll finally get the answers to the maddening questions in his head. Geoffrey closed the distance between them in a swift movement, grabbing the gun and pushing it away in one clean strong motion as he twisted the grip and forced the ambulance driver to relinquish it or break fingers in the process. He cursed, let out a bitten off cry as the weapon was wrenched from his grasp. He twisted to throw a punch but Geoffrey used his free hand to pin him against the door frame with a crack.

“Interfere with me again and broken fingers won’t be your only concern.” He growled, his forearm pressed firmly against the dip of the man’s clavicle, angled up enough to tease at choking him. “Am I understood?” The man nodded quickly, a choked out curse followed as Geoffrey drew away, putting distance between them. He emptied the contents of the revolver onto the nurse’s station and held onto the handgun itself until he had reached the upper level. He deposited it on one of the benches outside of Swansea’s office and headed down the hallway where the rest of the doctor’s offices were. 

He spied the nameplate on the door for Dr. Reid and scowled. He didn’t bother with the pleasantries of knocking, concerned that the good doctor would take the opportunity to run off if given warning. He barged in quite fantastically as Jonathan was bent over his workbench, rifling through blood slides and written documents. His brows furrowed in concentration, not even daring to look up to greet the hunter.

“If I have to knock before entering buildings, I’d prefer if you’d extend me the same courtesy McCullum.” He stated flatly, the amusement run dry from his voice as he turned his papers over and straightened up with a tired sigh. Geoffrey had to admit, he looked like shit. The dark bruises were more prominent now, seeping in around his eyes with an unfettered weariness that would never be quenched. He pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes, offering Geoffrey a moment to really take in the room.

It was as he expected of a doctor’s personal office. Clean, well stocked with supplies and lined with books for the various studies on the human body. One side was turned into a clean set up for patient examinations, the other a furnished living space complete with a small green fern in the corner that was well cared for. Despite all of these little simplistic details, there was one very glaring issue at hand. There was no sign at all that a baby goat had been living in this space. There was no designated sleeping area, no food set aside, bowls or otherwise and no Goatfrey in sight.

“Where is Goatfrey?” He demanded sharply, leveling a steely gaze on the Ekon. 

Jonathan turned his attention towards the hunter, adjusting his sleeves from their rolled up position to something more comfortable, smoothing his fingers over the fabric to flatten out the wrinkles. “Is that really why you came here?” He asked, shifting his gaze from the hunter back towards the door where Nurse Branagan was quickly approaching with the ambulance driver in tow.

Geoffrey turned to see them with a sneer. Jonathan sighed, waving them off as he called. “All is well I assure you.” 

“Are you certain Doctor?” The fickle nurse replied, reaching the doorway and staring at the pair skeptically.

“I am quite certain. I have everything under control.” Jonathan ignored the scoff that left Geoffrey’s throat and waited for the pair to leave. The door was promptly shut after to give the two men more privacy in their discussion. Jonathan leaned against the workbench, his hip resting on the edge as he folded his arms over his chest. “What is this all about McCullum?”

The hunter glared suspiciously at the doctor. “You leave without a word for two weeks under questionable circumstances and suddenly reappear empty handed as if no time had passed. After our last encounter, consider me cautious about your activities leech.”

Jonathan raised an incredulous brow then sighed. “I chose not to broadcast my personal life to the whole neighborhood, McCullum. The brevity of the situation didn’t allow for much planning. I had hoped you of all people would respect that at least. I may be a vampire but I’m still permitted to my privacy.”

“What are you on about leech?” The confusion was apparent and Geoffrey wasn’t fond of how Reid danced around his words.

“I was informed of my sister’s funeral the day it was set.” Jonathan finally admitted. “My mother was so upset over the loss that I put in for an unofficial leave to take care of her during her grief. Goatfrey is with her back at my family's home.”

Geoffrey considered this after some time. Letting Jonathan’s words ease the anger out of his thoughts. They made sense, he had to admit. But that nagging feeling of doubt was still there. He pushed it off for now and instead decided to lighten the mood and the dark tired shadow that settled over the doctor. "Is your mother a leech too?"

"Why would my mother be a vampire?" He looked genuinely surprised by the question which spurred a momentary amusement in Geoffrey.

"I'm just surprised she's still alive." He shrugged, shifting his weight side to side, moving further into the exam area to inspect the tools and containers that littered the countertops. His fingers brushing lightly over the beakers and test tubes thoughtfully.

"I can't tell if that's an insinuation that I ate her or an insult to my age." Jonathan huffed, giving the hunter a considerate look, frowning at him. There was a lack of heat in his gaze though causing Geoffrey to brush it away with a lazy roll of his shoulder.

“If you claim you didn’t eat Goatfrey, then take me to her. I’d like to see the proof myself.”

“Seriously?” Jonathan’s brows shot up in surprise.

Geoffrey turned to face him directly, a challenge edging his voice. “Concerned leech?”

“No just….well..considering this request means you’ll be meeting my mother..” Jonathan’s voice trailed off. If Geoffrey didn’t know any better, he’d say the leech was actually blushing. He didn’t know leeches could blush honestly. 

Jonathan cleared his throat and moved to collect his coat from the skeleton in the corner. “Alright then. Just behave yourself alright? She is very frail and I don’t want her meeting an early grave.”

Geoffrey rolled his eyes and gestured for the front door. “Just shut up and go.”


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next update probably wont be for a week or so. I'm gonna a be gone this weekend and too busy the next week or so with holiday parties and the like. Thank you everyone who has kept up with it so far, this fic has been a blast to write and I've had a lot of fun with it!
> 
> Happy holidays to you all!
> 
> Also, if anyone is interested, there is a vampyr discord server known as Pembroke Hospital, it's small but lively and full of good people. If anyone would like to join, you are welcome to. There is a lot of chat about OC's, headcanons and lore!
> 
> https://discord.gg/z7jg6Gt

Jonathan was genuinely surprised at McCullum’s request. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to invite the hunter to his home. He had the utmost confidence that Geoffrey would behave himself and not cause a problem in the long run. He was just concerned as to what Geoffrey was expecting as well as the implications of bringing the man home to meet his mother of all people. Even before the war, it wasn’t common place for Jonathan to bring people home to his mother, the privilege was often reserved for interested parties that he could see a future with. Many of which he lacked when his work took priority over his love life.

The walk from Pembroke was made shorter as they cut through the Docks towards the back entrance leading into the classier borough. It was faster and since Geoffrey informed him that Priwen was heavily roaming Whitechapel, he assumed that would make their trip more problematic in avoiding the numerous guards. He wasn’t afraid of being attacked, he knew better than to worry over that with Geoffrey at his side. He just would rather avoid any unnecessary gossip that may come about in the ranks that is spurred on by his presence. He wasn’t sure if Geoffrey had anticipated that problem or just didn’t care what types of rumours his men spread around. 

He was well aware of O’Connor’s thoughts on their interactions and would rather not push his luck with this bunch.

He breathed a heavy sigh, crossing the series of gates from the western docks over into the West End, holding the paths open for Geoffrey who marched on in continued silence. The near permanent scowl ingrained on his face pulled a smile from Jonathan. The streets were far cleaner in the West End, less cluttered by the chaos of the epidemic but also far emptier than Whitechapel or the Docks. People were frightened, hiding inside their homes as if they could push away the terrible truths of the world by being ignorant of it happening. As if four walls and a roof could save them from illness and destruction.

“How much further?” McCullum grumbled, breaking the silence that settled heavily over them. 

Jonathan raised a brow at the man, pausing to turn and address him full on with a small appraising smile. “We’re here.” He gestured towards the large lavish looking mansion. Geoffrey frowned at it, looking between it and Jonathan then shook his head.

“Well then. Gonna invite me in?” Jonathan met the gruff question with a barely concealed smile, albeit a bit nervous in its formation. He led the hunter up the front steps and opened the door, met with a quizzical look from Avery who was passing by. He stopped to greet the doctor.

“Welcome home sir. May I take your coat?”

“Thank you Avery. I’d like you to meet a friend of mine, Mr. Geoffrey McCullum.” Jonathan started to introduce as he slipped out of his coat and scarf. Avery took it with care, looking towards McCullum expectantly.

“Your coat sir?” Avery asked.

“I’m good, thanks. I’d rather keep it on.” He dismissed the question with a look of mild unease. Avery didn’t take any offense to the action and busied himself with hanging up Jonathan’s belongings.

“Very well then sir. Master Jonathan, your mother is in the study.”

“Thank you Avery.” The butler nodded promptly, returning to his previous duties before the pair arrived. Jonathan sighed once they were left alone and turned towards Geoffrey with a small frown. “Did you really come into my home armed McCullum?”

Geoffrey raised a brow at the doctor, sliding his hands down the front of his coat and pulled the lapels aside to expose the hilt of his scabbard. “Didn’t exactly expect to be making a social call tonight.” He admitted. “I sure as hell wasn’t about to leave it behind at the hospital.”

“Afraid what I’d do to you unarmed?” Jonathan’s tone slipped along a delicate edge of amusement and exhaustion, growing weary of this repetitive song and dance they found themselves in day in and day out. 

“Nah, I just don’t trust Swansea. The bastard is a sneaky one.” His gaze broke away from Jonathan’s to inspect the lavish accessories of his home. The doctor couldn’t help but feel a small shred of pride in it all. Not because of the opulence, heavens no. But the fact the very walls were filled with so many fond memories and sketched out the cherished details of his life from the moment he was born to his adulthood now. It was a sentimental sort of pride that swelled in his chest and fluttered warmly beneath his ribs.

“Well, please do refrain from drawing it in the presence of my mother.” Jonathan tutted quietly, turning to lead Geoffrey further into his home to the study. Jonathan was made aware of what Avery had been doing upon entry, finding Emelyne Reid sitting on the comfortable chaise lounge sofa with a table drawn up at the side within easy reach. A blanket was tucked around her lap and drawn over her shoulders to keep her warm, a fire lit in the corner fireplace flickering life into the room. A tray was set up with a warm kettle and a cup of tea, beside it was an empty bottle where she had just finished feeding Goatfrey. Her aged features were smoothed out and relaxed as she murmured gentle doting words to the little creature curled up in her lap. Her frail wrinkled hands stroking gently over the little goat’s back and along the sweater.

Goatfrey’s head was resting against her thigh with a sleepy huff as she settled into the comfort of being spoiled constantly. Jonathan stepped aside from the doorway, allowing Geoffrey to follow him in and shut the door behind them. 

“Mother?” He called, drawing her attention from the little warm weight in her lap.

“Oh Jonathan!” She exclaimed, stirring Goatfrey from her nap. “How wonderful to see you. Are you finished with your work already?”

“Not quite mother. I brought a friend to visit though if that’s alright?” He informed her sympathetically, knowing how distraught she seemed at the prospect he would be leaving. She was convinced he would never return again every time he left the room or even the house for that matter. He’d return from retrieving a blanket or some food for her only to be met with that look of fond surprise as if she expected him to vanish into a puff of smoke, never to return.

He pretended as if it didn’t hurt every time he laid eyes on her pained expression or that he didn’t catch her talking to the phantom hallucinations of his father Aubrey and his beloved departed sister Mary. When she’d joyously speak of his deceased nephew and brother-in-law coming to visit and the family trips her and Mary had planned once long ago, now etched into her mind as the last happy memories she retained in her grief. His heart ached so deeply, and he did his best to remain the dutiful son but he struggled in the brief hours of privacy. The last two weeks had been exhausting, hearing her wandering the halls talking to herself at all hours of day and night, slipping out into the streets when Avery wasn’t looking and being returned by the neighbors or law enforcement who’d become far too accustomed to this occurrence. The apologetic smiles directed at him by family friends and total strangers only further ripped at those old wounds.

"My, my, a friend?" She preened, taking in the sight of Geoffrey as if just now noticing his presence. "Come here young man, let me get a good look at you." She beckoned a fragile hand towards him. Geoffrey ducked his head in a small sheepish dip, stepping past Jonathan and carefully kneeling in front of her. One hand rested on his hip to angle his sword out of the way, one leg knelt while the other bent to keep him in a position to retreat easier. Of course, at the moment it was highly unnecessary.

He offered a small polite smile as the elderly woman squinted to inspect his features. Jonathan moved to stand at her side, examining the contents of the kettle and her nearly empty cup. A gentle whiff of the liquid and he could tell Avery had mixed her medication into it. His lips curled up into a pleased smile, relieved that his worries could lessen knowing he didn't need to go out hunting the streets in search of his absent mother.

"Such a handsome man. What is your name?" Emelyne asked, drawing Jonathan's attention back towards the Hunter. His smile spread into a smirk when he noted the red flush on Geoffrey's cheeks as embarrassment rushed to the forefront.

"Geoffrey, Ma'am." He answered carefully, voice softened with a note of politeness that was unheard of before. Jonathan's brows raised in shock but he reined his expression back into a fond smile when Geoffrey's own eyes narrowed on the doctor for a split second. "Geoffrey McCullum."

"You have lovely eyes, Mr.McCullum. Just like my Jonny." She hummed, a sadness simmering in her soft old eyes. "But you're not dead like my Jonny." She reached out to him, the hunter held still as her fingers brushed the warmth of his cheeks. Her weathered old hands were soft and cool, carved by wrinkles in great crevices and crippled by age.

"Mrs.Reid?" Geoffrey asked slowly as the mournful look cast deep painful shadows on her face. The same pained expression echoed in Jonathan's strong features. He turned his head away with a heavy sigh, averting his gaze. It was a heartbreaking truth. In her old age, her mind was feeling the test of time but she was not lost entirely. She knew her son better than anyone else and she  _ knew  _ the change that had come over him since they'd last seen one another before the war.

"I will mourn him still but I have the good fortune that he still visits me. Like my beautiful Mary and her little one, her husband and my dear sweet Aubrey." She withdrew her hands to return to Goatfrey as the little one shifted in her lap, the soft sleepy bleat demanding attention. Geoffrey's gaze dropped to inspect the goat as her hands roamed over it's long soft ears and scratched in subtle curls under its jaw. "He brings me such wonderful surprises. Like this little one and you." She hummed. "If only you had come when he was still alive. He would have liked you very much."

Jonathan willed Geoffrey not to question that statement. The bloodshot spidering of veins spread across his eyes as the doctor fought away the tears that threatened to overwhelm him. "Excuse me." He murmured, placing a gentle hand on Emelyne's shoulder. She covered his with her own small frail palm and nodded curtly.

"Do come back to see me soon dear." She called as he stepped past Geoffrey towards the doorway. He heard her quietly humming the softest melody to Goatfrey as the little creature started to sleep again. He slipped through the doorway of the study and made haste towards the front door where he gathered his coat and scarf briskly.

"Sir?" Avery asked, hearing the muffled hurried steps.

"I'll be back later Avery. Please take care of her while I'm gone." He called, his back remained turned to the butler.

"Yes sir."

Jonathan didn't wait as he left his home, forgetting that he hadn't come alone. He didn't hear Geoffrey approach until the hunter called his name right by his side, a hand reaching for his shoulder but Jonathan swatted it away, walking faster.

"Jonathan!" Geoffrey pressed more firmly, trying again as he took the doctor by the elbow. Jonathan was forced to stop and face him, sniffling softly as he wiped the red droplets pooling on his cheeks away quickly and cursee himself under his breath.

Geoffrey frowned. "You alright?"

"Just lovely." The bitterness overflowed into his posh accent, twisting pretty words into something venomous and sharp. "I'm just helplessly watching my own mother descend into madness as age ravages her mind and she believes I'm a ghost haunting her very existence. Isn't that a cheery thought?" He gestured aggressively towards the manor. 

"My very existence causes her pain but leaving her only hurts her more. What am I supposed to do McCullum? Huh?" He asked, stepping closer to the hunter. He noted the subtle flinch back as Geoffrey's hand dropped to his waist out of habit. His lips curled, flashing fangs in disgust as he turned away. "I'm trying every single day of this god forsaken life to be a better man, a better doctor, a  _ better son _ -" He sucked in a sharp breath. "and I can't even die properly at that."

Geoffrey frowned at the man, a look that made his stomach clench tightly into a sickening knot. The last thing he needed was to be judged by the Leader of Priwen. He scowled and turned away, pausing only when the hand returned to his shoulder, clutching tightly to pull him back. He raised an incredulous brow when he spied the handkerchief in hand. 

"Calm down and clean your face up Jonathan." He spoke sternly as if chastising an unruly recruit and not a common leech. "You're doing the best you can with the shitty hand you've been dealt. And to be honest, you're handling it a lot better than most in your position. So cut the pity shite and go back inside and see your mother."

Jonathan shifted, accepting the handkerchief hesitantly. "Thank you." He used it to wipe at the red stains sliding slowly down his cheeks, mopping up the mess they caused and blinking away the residual burn of his sorrow still wound tight in his throat.

"You have an eternity before you but she doesn't, so cherish every minute you have with her. Even if she thinks you're dead, at least she can take some comfort in the fact that you're here nonetheless."

"I suppose so." His voice was slow and roughened by distress. He wrung the handkerchief between his fingers anxiously in consideration. His gaze fixed on the house, apprehension tight in his expression. Geoffrey waited, arms crossed before him as he inspected the empty well lit streets, allowing what scant bit of privacy he could in the situation while Jonathan worked through his reservations.

"You'll stay, won't you?" He finally asked, his voice softer now.

"Hm?" Geoffrey turned back to him confused.

Jonathan cleared his throat. "Please, stay. She gets so few visitors these days and it would do her good to have tea with someone who can actually drink it."

Geoffrey rubbed at the back of his neck in contemplation, rolling his head side to side before sighing in resignation. "Fine. I suppose a cup couldn't hurt." His lips curled into the smallest smile which tugged at Jonathan's own mouth, a crooked little twitch of lips as he started towards the door. He tossed his head in a short bob of direction earning an amused huffed from the hunter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't forget to comment and kudos below to let me know what you think! Feedback is appreciated! Happy holidays everyone!


	9. Chapter 9

“Get off of there right this second you scoundrel!” The voice of the esteemed hospital Administrator was a loud boom of disgruntled shouting that could be heard from outside the doorway. Geoffrey wasn’t one for eavesdropping normally, especially when it concerned Dr. Edgar Swansea, resident vampire apologist and spineless quack of the Brotherhood. But this afternoon, his interest was piqued when something other than himself was causing the doctor trouble. The misfortune on the other side of the door was accompanied by the irritated bleating of Goatfrey and the heavy thud of items being knocked to the floor.

“I swear by the Stole that I will turn you into a hat you beast of a thousand burdens!” He hissed, the footsteps of the doctor followed sharply. Geoffrey raised a brow, opening the door just in time to see Swansea chasing the little goat around the room. Papers and books were scattered about the office, a broken beaker lie shattered where it had been knocked off the desk and trampled. The skull Swansea so often kept in his collection had rolled across the floor towards McCullum and stopped at his feet. He picked it up, rolling it from one hand to the next as he shut the door behind him. Swansea seemed convinced he had successfully cornered Goatfrey by the wall. The little goat bleated up at him as the doctor cursed under his breath.

The creature lifted its tiny white tail and started dropping pellets all over the carpet. Swansea swatted at Goatfrey, catching her on the rump and sending a jolt of anger through Geoffrey. He crossed the room in swift strides, snatching the doctor by the lapels of his coat and turning him around. One hand fisted up in the fabric of his jacket, forcing Swansea back into the wall with a hard slam. The doctor’s eyes widened drastically behind those oversized glasses. 

“McCullum?!” He blurted in startled horror. 

The glare that settled on the hunters face could only be considered deathly, cold and sharp. His eyes narrowed as Goatfrey bleated anxiously somewhere else in the room. “Color me surprised Swansea. A right bastard you are.” He hissed.

“What is the meaning of this McCullum?” Swansea demanded, a half hearted attempt to grab at the hand holding him pressed against the wall before it was abandoned. He cleared his throat and tried instead for poise which the man surely lacked. His hair was in disarray and his glasses askew. His outfit was ruffled and stained in one spot presumably from taking care of the goat in Jonathan’s absence while the vampire slept through the day.

“I was looking for some information on a certain problem but here I find you neglecting your head surgeon’s beloved pet. I wonder what Dr. Reid would have to say about that?” Geoffrey sneered, lips pulled into a wicked snarl. “Has he seen your true colors yet, Swansea? How you hide behind that precious Brotherhood of yours?”

“I assure you I was only offering a firm hand on the situation McCullum. Please do not take my actions out of context. I know how the Guard is fond of doing that these days.” Swansea challenged, straightening up in the hunter’s grasp. 

Geoffrey narrowed his eyes on the doctor before raising the abandoned skull to eye level with the man. “Take a good long look Swansea.” He urged. “Cross me or that goat again, and this’ll be all that remains of you when I’m finished.” The doctor stared wide eyed at the skull as Geoffrey tossed it up in the air for him to catch in a mad scramble. He stepped away and was met with the urgent headbutting of the little goat. Bending over, he scooped the little one up in his arms and cradled her to his chest, running his hands over her muzzle and down her neck, adjusting the rumpled sweater on her torso. Her collar was oddly absent. A quick scan of the room alerted McCullum to the broken leather that lie beneath the chair next to Swansea’s desk, attached to the leash which was tied up and tangled around the legs of the doctor’s seat. 

McCullum scowled at the man, pinning him in place as he retreated back to his seat and attempted to salvage the poorly formed illusion currently presented. “I refuse to let my hospital become a barnyard.” He started firmly, his palms pressed to the surface of his desk after depositing the skull back into its spot.

“Funny how Reid can manage and he’s the one more tempted to eat the beast.” Geoffrey scoffed. “S’what does that gotta say bout you hm?” Goatfrey wiggled in his arms, asking to be put back down so the hunter obliged, letting her wander idly around his feet. She nibbled at his pants and kicked her hooves at the scattered papers on the floor, further tearing and crumpling them between hoof and teeth. Swansea’s face darkened with frustration, caught between the urge to leap forward to stop the destruction and being pinned down into submission by the threats of the hunter. And how sweet it was for McCullum to see the man struggle to hold his tongue.

Geoffrey whistled at the little goat, watching fondly as her head snapped up and she pranced back over to stand at his feet. He reached down to scoop her up into his arms again, securing her carefully in his hold as he turned to leave. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“Enjoy explaining to Reid why his pet is missing.” Geoffrey answered briskly as he turned to leave. Swansea stood to intervene, his palms meeting the surface of his desk with a heavy sound but it didn’t dissuade Geoffrey. The quiet click of the door entered the silence, leaving the doctor alone in his office.

Goatfrey was content to be carried away from that tiny cramped room, finding more interest in the world outside of it and the curious smells and sounds of the hospital space downstairs which she so rarely got to explore. She wiggled in his arms excitedly but calmed with the hand smoothing over her side and ears. She settled back with a soft bleat, nuzzling at the nape of Geoffrey’s neck with her nose as he took the steps quickly. Most of the entrance was empty aside from the usual patients that lurked in the lobby. The nurses were absent from the station, their voices could be heard down the hallway as the young Nurse Hawkins discussed something with the other young doctor in the glasses. The man’s name completely lost to Geoffrey in the rare few times he’s come to the hospital and most often that had him dealing with Swansea and most recently, Reid.

The young woman who believed herself a vampire seemed to hone in on him when Goatfrey cried into the crook of his neck. Her tired blue eyes narrowing on Geoffrey as she approached with all the poise and determination of a noble slighted. One hand rested on her hip, shoulders drawn back as she met his gaze, head tilted just enough to meet the hunter’s eyes with the sheer height looming over her.

“Mortal, what do you think you are doing?” She demanded, gesturing towards the little goat with a suspicious look. 

In the sparse few encounters he’s had with Reid, he had managed a discussion with the good leech doctor about this young woman, Miss Thelma Howcroft. Reid had explained, should he encounter her in future visits, how to handle her delusions. It sounded childish at first but Geoffrey knew from experience that playing the fool and acting a little bit didn’t hurt in the long run if it achieved a necessary goal with little effort needed. If she believed herself a grand old vampire Mistress, then so be it.

He offered the softened smile he reserved for Jonathan’s mother, a knowing look leveled in his gaze, cool and calm as he spoke with the heavier tone of the emerald isles. “I’ve been given a task by the good Dr. Reid, milady.” He adjusted Goatfrey in his arms so she settled in the crook of his elbow. Her head rolled to rest on his bicep as she bleated softly in complaint.

“Task? What task? I wasn’t informed of a task. You dare take my thrall away?”

Geoffrey shook his head slowly. He braced Goatfrey on one arm as he reached down to brush the edge of his coat aside. “I am to guard this young doe with my life.” The silvery hilt of his sword peeked out of the edge of his coat, the woman’s eyes lit up with excitement as she tilted her head. “It is my knightly duty.”

“I see.” She nodded curtly, her eyes flitting back up to meet Geoffrey’s. “Carry on then. You have my blessing sir Knight.”

“Thank you Milady.” He bowed his head in a short jerky movement, returning his embrace more securely around Goatfrey as Thelma stepped away to let him pass unhindered. He sighed heavily once he’d reached the fresh air of midday, the warmth of the sun bathed over his skin as the little babe bleated excitedly in his arms. He cursed the fact he didn’t have Goatfrey’s harness or leash with him, so he’d have to make do for now. He hoped the little one wouldn’t start too much of a fuss before he could get them both back to Headquarters. She could always scamper about the enclosed courtyard with O’Connor and the recruits to burn off the unnecessary energy. In the meantime, he was past due for a bit of sleep.


End file.
